The Lost
by Scarlett Burns
Summary: Van Helsing is not what he appears to be, and an encounter with a powerful enemy will force him to confront his greatest fear; the discovery of his past and what and who he truly is.


**The Lost  
**_A Van Helsing Fan Fic_  
By Scarlett Burns  
Rated T for violence

Summary: Van Helsing is not what he appears to be, and an encounter with a powerful enemy will force him to confront his greatest fear; the discovery of his past and what and who he truly is.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything recognizable from the movie, "Van Helsing".

Author's Note: Pretty late to jump into the Van Helsing fandom, but hopefully a few people out there still check this category from time to time and still want to read about the characters. ;) This takes place a couple years after the movie, and assumes that everything in the movie played out as it seemed. Also, I need a beta for this story, so if you are willing, drop me a PM!

I hope you enjoy, and please, feel free to leave a little feedback and let me know what you think!

* * *

The evil was overwhelming. It crashed and beat against him like an ocean crashing against a cliffside.

The thing looked like nothing more than a man – not even an intimidating one at that – but the _feeling_ that washed over Van Helsing as he neared it told him everything he needed to know; this creature before him was far from human, and was more dangerous than any adversary he'd faced before.

Even Dracula.

It smiled at him then and their eye bored into one another's, trying to anticipate each other's next move. Van Helsing could sense a history behind the thing's gaze. It was hard to describe, but it felt like a weight of the past was hidden in its depths; a past that he could not remember.

Not memory but instinct told Van Helsing that they were not strangers to one another; that they'd met and done this twisted battle dance before, had won and lost countless times, yet one could never truly get rid of the other.

It smiled, and to Van Helsing's surprise the action made his skin crawl. Shoulder-length blond hair framed an angular, pale face. Its light blue eyes held an unearthly glint as it examined Van Helsing, and it was clear that this creature thought him easy prey. Lips pulled back to reveal sharp teeth, reminding him of a rabid dog.

What Van Helsing saw standing in front of him was not its true form, he was sure, but exactly what the demon wanted him to see. Yet the ugliness and corruption of its own soul was impossible to hide from the Vatican's avenger… making the charade seem absurd.

Van Helsing fingered the gun at his hip, standing a good fifteen feet from the demon, trees surrounded them on all sides. Another dense forest, and another creature of darkness; he was learning to appreciate the city more every passing day.

Sizing up the creature as it began to laugh, Van Helsing thought a werewolf was starting to look pretty good right now.

_"Look at you now, Gabriel!"_ it mocked in a language he did not recognize, but understood; ancient and powerful, foreign yet familiar. He furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn't have time to ponder the oddity as the demon took a couple swaggering steps towards him. Gabriel grasped the gun holstered at his hip, standing his ground. He didn't draw the gun out, instead waiting, holding off until the right moment presented itself. It stopped moving, seemingly amused by Gabriel's actions. _"So like the weak you admire so dearly… and protect so endlessly."_

Gabriel had to keep from letting out a frustrated groan.

_Did all the vilest creatures on earth have to know him personally?_

Dracula's words two years ago taunted him, lurking in the depths of his mind day in and day out, only to be reinforced by this demon before him. The reality of that truth was not something he wanted to dwell on, or even had time to for that matter.

Things were so much easier as they were now.

_Easy… haunted with nightmares and plagued with a million questions and no answers... and always the feeling of…_

Gabriel frowned, halting his last thought. _Oh yes, so much easier._

He wasn't sure how much longer he could live in denial. He shook himself out of his inner thoughts. There was a demon to kill, after all. Time for that later.

Always time for that later.

"I believe you have me confused with someone else," Gabriel said with a smirk, drawing his gun.

The demon was in front of him in an instant, dead silent, locking Van Helsing's neck into a vice-like grip with its hand; its cold touch draining his energy with every passing second. It stank of brimstone and death. Gabriel clawed at the demon's hold, all senses screaming at the overwhelming evil that hit him full force. Unable to loosen his grip, Gabriel snatched his gun from his holster and placed the barrel underneath the demon's chin.

Gabriel didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.

He was instantly covered in a black, thick spray of blood as the bullet ripped through the demon's skull and exited out the top of its head. It screamed only for an instant; a short, inhuman cry that made him shudder.

All hopes to the contrary he didn't believe for a moment that the bullet would kill the demon, but thought that at the very least it should break the demon's damn death grip on his neck.

Gabriel was loath to admit it, but he'd greatly underestimated the demon.

Unfortunately, despite the mess made of the demon's skull, it only loosened its stranglehold as it began to instantly knit itself back together. Peeling off the creature's fingers Gabriel broke free, but his struggles cost him time that he did not have, and by the time he'd turned around and began to bolt into the trees, the demon was already upon him again, its healing clearly evident as it snatched his arm, turning him back around.

A twisted smirk formed on its face, and its vice-like grip returned full force as it slammed him against the nearest tree trunk. The demon leaned in; its hot breath against his face as it spoke.

_"Ah, how lucky I am that you don't remember yourself."_ It squeezed a bit harder, and Gabriel's vision began to get hazy as he struggled in vain against the demon's supernatural strength. _"Yet, I'm torn,"_ it continued, feigning remorse. _"To think __**the**__ left hand of God – such a worthy enemy, such an immortal adversary – should be dealt with so easily, not even knowing... well, it is incredibly __**disappointing**__."_ Gabriel's blood turned cold at its words, his mind refusing to believe or process what it was saying. The demon cocked its head to the side, drawing away to look him in the eyes. _"But it had to end, and that end may as well come today. I do not miss an opportunity." _It leaned even closer to him and sniffed loudly, and in an instant Gabriel knew it was trying to smell his fear.

But despite his struggles to get free Gabriel felt no real fear, impossible as it sounded, and he was thankful for it.

It chuckled. _"We've been at this game for a very long time."_

Gabriel stopped his struggling, his arms and legs weakened by lack of oxygen.

"Doesn't... end for me as it does for you," Gabriel managed to ground out, his voice nearly gone as he began to gasp for air. "Is that... **disappointing**?"

Gabriel felt a grim satisfaction when he saw through his darkening vision that he got a rise out of the demon; its eyes blazing with unbridled fury, black as midnight as it dropped part of its human visage. "Liar!" it spat in his face, slamming him into the tree trunk once more. "We are the same!"

His vision blacked out for a second as pain sliced through is skull. Pure instinct, without thought or reason, found him saying, "Never like… you. I … was sent."

Not even he understood the gravity of what he said to the demon, and he didn't have time to find out. Even so, the demon seemed to understand just fine.

"_It is sad you still believe that, Gabriel."_

Blackness nearly engulfed his vision. Without air, he wasn't going to last much longer. Using the last of his strength, he took the low road and kicked at the demon's lower region hoping it would have the same effect as it would have on a normal man.

The demon grunted in surprise - and a little pain, Gabriel was happy to report - and let go of him. Gabriel dropped heavily to the ground, fighting against the darkness pressing in as he scrambled to get his feet underneath him.

But in the end he found that it was once again too little too late. His body felt heavy as lead, his legs shook underneath him, and his world tilted while spots danced in his vision.

_Too slow._

Getting over its surprise, the demon stuck out a foot, tripping him up on already unsteady feet and a spinning head. Van Helsing fell like a stone, his jaw slamming into the unforgiving ground and his stomach taking the brunt of a rather large rock. Only having just started to get air back into his burning lungs the blow undid all the progress, winding and crippling him in an instant.

The demon turned him over roughly with its foot and looked down at him with disgust. _"This is not worthy of you, Gabriel, Prince of Judgment. Tell me, was that nothing more than a last effort from a desperate man about to die?"_ the demon questioned.

He couldn't say he knew entirely what the demon was getting at - his mind beyond real thought, too clouded by pain and lack of oxygen - but he knew what it didn't want to hear. Call it lunacy. Call it intuition. Call it repressed memories guiding his way.

He managed a smirk of his own, despite the pain and pressing blackness of unconsciousness and - very likely - death. _"Guess you'll never know."_

The demon let out an inhuman growl, then revealed a short sword that had been hidden within its long coat. Gabriel didn't have the strength or opportunity to move; the sword was quickly plunged into his chest and he damned the tortured scream that escaped his lips as the sword ran clean through and buried itself into the dirt against his back.

His pain beginning to dissipate – a bad sign to be sure – Gabriel used the last of what he had left. He would not die like a coward. "A cruce salus," he managed, blood garbling his words. The demon understood though, a new rage crossing its ghastly features.

_From the cross comes salvation._

The demon knelt to one knee, and roughly grabbed hold of Gabriel's jaw, forcing Van Helsing to look at him. Now, it truly looked like a creature from the depths of hell, having dropped its human visage completely as it made its prize kill. "I'd strip you of your wings, Gabriel, but it looks as if someone already beat me too it."

The demon twisted the blade in Gabriel's chest, pulled it up enough to dislodge it from the ground beneath, and then dragged it down, slicing him open from chest to stomach. Gabriel choked on the coppery liquid that flooded his mouth and spilled out his lips, the last of his energy spent digging his fingers into the dirt as he felt the pain of death; his torso and lungs burned as if on fire. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. His blood ran freely from him and pooled into the muddy ground underneath him. The demon stood up, pulling out the sword as he did so, but the pain was dull now, rapidly fading to numbness. Able to hang on no longer, Gabriel finally succumbed to the darkness that had been waiting for him as the demon's voice rang in his ears. _"Guess this will have to do."_

* * *

Carl found himself fidgeting under the Cardinal's piercing stare. A simple friar, he'd never been asked into the Cardinal's private quarters before. Whatever business the Cardinal had with him was sure to be unpleasant.

"Have you had news of Van Helsing?" the Cardinal asked at last.

"Me? No," Carl answered, startled. After all, Van Helsing hardly made a habit of reporting to him, of all people.

"So you have not heard from him," Cardinal Jinette stated somberly.

"No, should I have?" he asked, unsure.

The Cardinal sighed and waved away the question, standing from his seat and moving to the arched window to his left. Looking out to one of the Vatican's many gardens he said quietly, "I think I've made a grave mistake."

Carl shuffled further into the room, moving away from the doorway, his stomach tightening uncomfortably at the Cardinal's admission. Something in his tone said volumes more than his words; Jinette was worried. "What do you mean?" he asked nervously, fearing the answer.

"He's not made contact with us in over two months."

Carl shrugged, trying to dispel his own tension. "Is that unusual?" he inquired. After all, Van Helsing was not known for writing home often and this wasn't the first time he'd dropped off the map when he was on a mission.

"In his last communication he said he was close to capturing the demon. But he also informed us that he felt this demon was far more powerful than anything he'd encountered before."

"Perhaps this thing is just keeping Van Helsing busy?" Carl said, knowing right away it was a weak explanation. Yet a mission almost a year prior entered his mind and gave him hope. "Remember that witch in Greece? He hadn't gotten word to us in near three months!"

The Cardinal looked over at Carl, and he immediately knew there was something more; facts he hadn't been told. "What else?" Carl asked after a moment, feeling the need to sit down and doing just that in a nearby chair, uninvited.

Nodding slightly the Cardinal turned to Carl, taking a deep breath and clasping his hands in front of him. "When Van Helsing came to us six years ago, near dead on our doorstep, he had no memory of what happened to him..." the Cardinal paused as if weighing what to say next, and Carl scooted to the edge of his chair.

The subject of Van Helsing's arrival at the Vatican was rarely spoken of and of great interest to the friar. There were secrets hidden in the events of that day; secrets that perhaps only the Cardinal and Van Helsing were privy too… and then, maybe not even Van Helsing.

Van Helsing had confided to him that he remembered battles – brief flashes of death and killing – that he had no right to remember... battles fought hundreds or thousands of years ago. Van Helsing saw things in his dreams he couldn't possibly have seen in his life, yet they felt as real to him as if he fought in them yesterday.

Most would think Van Helsing crazy, and Carl was almost inclined to believe it… if only because it was easy; easy to believe him mad… easy to explain delusions away.

But Carl didn't believe Van Helsing disturbed, and more than anything, that disturbed Carl, because he didn't know where that led next. Immortality? Past lives? Magic? Possession? Things unexplained or unknown made Carl uneasy; he was driven by the need to know, to understand.

Looking up he found Jinette studying him curiously but after a moment the Cardinal continued. "I believe the demon I sent him to destroy has something to do with that night he was found on our steps. It is also possible that… it is the thing that nearly killed him six years ago."

"What!" Carl jumped out of the chair, shocked. "Did he know this when you sent him?"

Looking down, the Cardinal breathed in deeply before hardened eyes met Carl's anxious ones. "No."

A rare moment of anger overcame Carl but he forced himself to remain calm in the Cardinal's presence. He needed to focus on how to help Van Helsing... if he was still alive to be helped.

Van Helsing was no joy to work with, and he certainly never wanted to join him in the field after the whole Dracula fiasco two years ago but he had a grudging admiration for the man who rid the world of its monsters. Monsters no one else dared to vanquish… or could.

"Where was he when he last sent word?" Carl asked, his voice unusually stiff.

"Germany."

"Yes, yes. But where?" Carl pressed, standing and moving toward the Cardinal, already fully aware of the country Van Helsing had been sent to.

"It does not matter."

Carl's eyes widened a bit in surprise. Didn't matter?

"Who did you send him after?"

The Cardinal remained silent.

"I can't help him," Carl continued, "if I don't know who he is fighting."

Cardinal Jinette looked at Carl grimly. "We are not going to save him, Friar. We cannot, even if we wanted to. If the demon was to kill him, he's already done so. Van Helsing may be dead, could have been so for two months, for all we know."

That froze Carl in mid-thought. He stood stone still, gaping at Jinette like a fish in a glass bowl.

So that was it? The Vatican was just going to wash their hands of Van Helsing so quickly after the man had devoted his life to their quest, beliefs and cause? They had no proof – other than his lack of contact – that he was even dead.

"Who did you send him after!" Carl demanded, slamming his fist against the Cardinal's desk in front of him, not willing to give up on the hunter so quickly. To the Cardinal's credit, he didn't even flinch at the friar's reaction.

"I cannot tell you. Leave this be. There is far more to this than I can tell you."

_More secrets, damn it!_

"You brought me here," Carl tried again.

Cardinal Jinette stood and bowed his head. "I was simply hoping you'd had word. I am not heartless, Carl, as you may think, but this is out of our hands." The Cardinal walked to the door and opened it, his voice instantly commanding. "It is time for you to leave."

His tone held no room for argument, and Carl left the room appalled at the death sentence the Vatican had seemingly delivered to a man he looked up to, and called friend.

Of course, he would never tell Van Helsing that.

Silently, he sent up a quick prayer as he hurried to his quarters, hoping that their worries were for nothing, and that Van Helsing was capable of fighting this unusually powerful demon. Carl's mind was already working – gears turning and schematics being drawn – figuring ways he could possibly find the great Van Helsing, and desperately hoping it wasn't already too late.

TBC...


End file.
